Broken Knight (All Saints High, #2)(108)

There was a beat of silence, after which Knight cleared his throat.

“So…is that a yes or a no? Because Dixie’s been filming this whole thing outside, and I don’t know how much memory her phone has.”

A burst of laughter rang in the air. I was pleasantly surprised that some of it was mine.

“Yes!” I shouted. “Yes, I’d love to be Luna Cole!”

He scooped me up and kissed me for the entire world to see. My arms linked behind his back, my lips fused to his. It was the perfect princess moment I never thought I could have, with a prince I’d thought was everyone else’s rake.

And when he finally put me down and stared at me, I knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. We knew each other so well. Too well.

“Always. Whenever. Forever,” he mouthed, his lips still on mine.

I decided to complete his sentence, the way I’d imagined it in my head so many years ago.

“I choose you.”





One Year Later



“Oh my God. Oh, Knight. Oh, Knight. Oh, Knight. Oh…”

“Knight. Yup. I know.” I rotate between fingering Luna and pushing my tongue into her pussy. She is crazy horny these days, which makes me a horn dog of massive proportions.

Yeah. Okay. I’m always a horn dog.

Real talk, though—is there anything hotter than licking the cum from my fiancée’s pussy and smearing it on her clit, playing with it as I fuck her until next Wednesday?

Yeah, I don’t think so, either.

I eat her out until she clutches my hair and yanks my head up from her groin, her eyes a gray storm. I can feel the diamonds of her engagement ring digging into my skull, and it makes my dick twitch in excitement. Who knew that Luna Rexroth, the tomboy, the mute, the kid no one noticed, was a bit of a freak in bed?

Not me, that’s for sure. Life’s full of surprises like that.

“I want you inside me.” She sounds more angry than turned on now.

I can’t help it. I nearly topple over, laughing. But she doesn’t give me a chance to do that, either. She pulls my big-ass frame atop her, traps my waist with her slender legs, and waits for me to plunge in.

I do. I fill her to the brim, until her moans of pleasure have a dash of sweet ache in them. I move in and out of her slowly, bareback, making love to her, kissing her mouth.

Mine.

The center of her chin.

Mine.

Her nose.

Mine, mine, mine.

“Moonshine,” I croak, her nickname like a cliff I’m about to jump from.

I can see the beautiful horizon splashing in front of me in all its glory. It is full of memories we’re going to make, places we’re going to see, moments that will define us forever.

Memories with Levy, who I talk to every day on the phone, sticking to my promise to be there for him.

With Dad, who is slowly crawling back into life.

With Dixie, who is trying her very best not to piss me off, and so far, I have to admit, succeeding.

And with the girl who was born to pull me through an inevitable tragedy.

The moon peeks at us from the curtain of our beach house, smiling.

You made it, it says.

We did.

We have awesome windows where you can’t see anything from the outside, but we can see everything from inside of the house. We moved here six months ago, on the same day Vaughn packed his shit and moved to England.

People were surprised to find out we’d moved out of Todos Santos, but to me, it was the most natural thing in the world. I needed some time just with Luna before I tackled the real world—somewhere our parents and friends couldn’t drop by and interrupt us. We’re still only a short drive from Todos Santos—less than an hour when the traffic isn’t shitty.

“Knight,” Luna whimpers in my arms. “Faster.”

“But what if…”

“Faster!”

Her nails sink into my lower back and O-fucking-kay….

It’s settled, then. Pregnant ladies are batshit crazy. I thought Dixie was exaggerating. She’s been coming here every weekend. We have dinners and trivia nights and the entire Brady Bunch bullshit together. She was the one who warned me that Luna was going to go over a lot of hormonal hurdles.

I thought she mostly meant the spurts of crying every time she sees a dirty puppy or a lone mitten on the street. But no. Luna is also hornier than a moose.

Not that I’m complaining.

“I don’t wanna hurt the baby,” I moan, trying to keep it PG-13 somehow.

I can eat my fiancée until my mouth goes numb, but I’m worried I’ll hurt the baby with my massive cock. I’m not being arrogant or anything—it’s a genuine concern. I don’t want Knight Senior to poke its head or anything.

“Mommy, how come I only have one eye?”

“Well, son, Daddy poked it out while dicking me when I was pregnant with you.”

Can’t blame me for not taking any chances—especially as Vaughn has been having a fucking field day since the news broke. He called my fiancée a Teen Mom in the making when we Skyped with him (false, she is twenty), and when Luna admitted craving Ramen noodles, he replied that judging by the rush with which she got knocked up, he thought she had a particular taste for my dick.

And I couldn’t maim him.